


half broke

by The_Aquarian



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Chiccolo - Freeform, Chiccolo Week 2016, F/M, First Time, Romance, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 12:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7757287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Aquarian/pseuds/The_Aquarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Accidents can be both painful and wonderful.</p>
<p>For Chi Chi x Piccolo/Chiccolo Week 2016. Saturday’s Prompt: first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	half broke

It had been so innocent. Just a tiny little nudge, accidentally, as he lifted a huge, steaming pot of oil from the stove. She’d turned, then, catching his foot. In what felt like slow motion, she had seen the boiling oil tip over the pot’s edge and onto his more sensitive pink-tinted skin. “Watch out!” she’d yelled, knowing it was far too late, knowing that something like that hurt like hell. The pain had shown in his face even if he never made a sound aloud.

“Oh, no! Piccolo, I’m so very sorry!” Chi Chi sidestepped several feet away as he moved the pot to the dinner table. She had planned on making Shabu-shabu with Gohan and Goten, who were due home in the next few minutes. Vegetables, noodles, and several sauces were already laid out alongside plates and chopsticks. Now, instead of getting started on their dinner, she focused all her attention on the injured but silent Namekian.

He turned on the faucet to wash his arm when she screeched and batted his uninjured arm away. “If you put water on a grease burn it’ll only get worse!” 

“Then what do you want me to do?” he huffed. His face was tinged purple across his cheeks, his injured arm quivering just a bit as he tried not to cradle it in his left arm.

Chi Chi bit her lip for a moment as she thought until sudden movement caught her eye. “Don’t you _dare_ rip that arm off here! I will _not_ be cleaning up your mess in this house!”

Piccolo ground his teeth and looked away. 

“Sit. There.” She motioned to the table and chairs. “I’ll get some medicine together. You wait here.” 

The Namekian was ten times surlier than usual as she had carefully worked on his arm. No, not surly – he was embarrassed. A human woman was having to bandage him after a clumsy injury. Part of him hated that he was putting her out. That oil wouldn’t stay hot too much longer, not that Gohan and Goten were home yet and it would only get cooler the later they were. Chi Chi had worked hard on the meal, too. She’d been chopping vegetables and meats for the last two hours, all while boiling two other huge pots of noodles. But another part of him was unsure why he didn’t her mind her touch, the way she deftly moved from this to that while working on him. How could her fingers be so very soft, her ministrations so gentle?

“I have no idea where the boys are,” she was saying. “Gohan was supposed to pick up Goten by 3:30, and it’s nearly 5! Maybe I should call him again…”

Smiling to himself, he was quickly lost once more in the sound of her voice and her rapid subject shifting – from the boys to her father to a new recipe she’d been wanting to try and on and on. It had been a while since he had seen her so at ease. Her prattling was a sure sign of some peace she had finally found.

Chi Chi grinned as she leaned back, work complete. “And that should do it!”

Their eyes met then. Hers held unexplained kindness, warmth, the sparkle of every star in the sky. He’d reached out and carefully placed one large hand over both of hers, which were folded daintily in her lap. “Thank you,” he said, a bit more gruffly than he’d intended. The last thing he felt was anger; he may as well have been putty in her hands. When – _how_ – had _that_ happened?

After a moment or two, Chi Chi had stood and Piccolo pulled back his hand, a purple flush crawling over his cheeks. These thoughts in his mind, they couldn’t be right! This was Gohan’s mother, Goku’s wif- _widow_. Goku’s widow. But that didn’t really change anything! Except Goku didn’t want to be wished back. He had _chosen_ to stay dead. 

It had been nearly four years now. Throughout all of them, Piccolo had slowly been welcomed into the Son household, helping Gohan with this and that, offering what support he could to the little boy who had just lost his father _a second time_ ; assisting Chi Chi with household chores while her pregnancy came to an end, then helping her after Goten’s birth – via emergency C-section, no less – which put Chi Chi off her feet for a couple weeks, and helping care for newborn/infant/toddler Goten, a task that required his presence for nearly every minute of the day for a couple years; and doing basic household chores that he assumed Goku did. Only a couple months ago did Gohan say that his father never helped around the house, unless it was bringing in a giant tree for firewood or catching fish. Piccolo had brooded over that as he finished helping sweep the kitchen and wash breakfast bowls, only to realize he didn’t mind being here that much. It was… nice.

The oil was still quite warm but nowhere near the heat needed for Shabu-shabu, Chi Chi realized as she stared at the pot again. There was a chance she’d have to do redo the whole thing. That was probably the best move she could make at this point, what with not knowing where the boys were and Gohan not answering his mobile phone. She stepped towards the pot only to find Piccolo block her. 

“Uh, excuse me? Get out of my way,” she said, trying to move around him.

“ _I_ will lift that pot if you need it lifted. There is no way I’ll risk _you_ getting burned.”

Chi Chi stepped backwards in surprise. She wanted to argue with him and let him know that she did not need a man’s help around here, thank you very much! Except something in how he’d said it… Gentleness. Concern. Like he truly _cared_.

Piccolo gingerly lifted the pot and carried it back to the stove. She went to stand next to him, hoping that the oil could be reheated and wouldn’t need to be thrown out. Their hands brushed against each other.

Every other time this had happened, one or both of them had quickly jumped away for fear of causing offense. Now, though, her soft porcelain skin lightly pressing against his rough green, neither made a move to, well, move. And it was okay.

Chi Chi turned her head to look at him. Piccolo was staring down at her, an unreadable expression set on his face. He leaned down slowly, giving her time to move away if she chose. She didn’t want to be anywhere else in the entire universe.

Their lips carefully met, rough against smooth, flat against full. A few seconds passed before Piccolo jerked back, his face scarlet with embarrassment, even his ears stained fuchsia. 

Neither spoke nor moved.

“Was… Was that okay?” he whispered finally. So much fear in his eyes, voice quivering, shoulders already hunched as though he expected to be disappointing to her. _I’m a fool_ , he thought, one hand curling into a fist, claws piercing his palm in slight punishment. _She’s Goku’s. There’s no way. What the hell is wrong with me?_

She would slap him any second. Scold him. Grab her damn frying pan and chase him out of the house.

Piccolo had no hope of ever being Goku-

Chi Chi reached up and touched his jaw, felt him release some tension beneath her fingers. “Better than okay.”

A burst of joy flooded his face. His eyes searched her face and body for a moment to see if she was lying for the sake of his feelings. She wasn’t.

Piccolo wrapped one arm around her small waist, pulling her against his chest, and the other cupped her cheek. Her mouth opened a bit in surprise as he again deliberately lowered his lips to hers. She sighed into him, her hands clutching at his neck. As he deepened this kiss, she raised herself on her tiptoes to match him. Their lips moved together rhythmically. Chi Chi couldn’t suppress a slight moan in her throat. Oh, she had missed this! Missed a man holding her like this, igniting passion in her, setting every nerve alive.

It was true. Piccolo had no hope of ever being Goku, but Goku likewise had no hope of ever being Piccolo. Among all the half-truths and false promises of her marriage, Chi Chi had realized she herself was broken. When she had learned Goku was dead the first time, it had nearly destroyed her. Particularly because the giant green monster who thirsted for Goku’s death had _actually_ killed him. _And_ taken her son. To prepare him to fight some aliens. _At age four_. But later, through Gohan’s sobs, she’d learned that giant green monster was a person, Mr. Piccolo, who had lost his life valiantly saving her child. 

A strange dichotomy had built up in her mind of the Ma Junior Piccolo she’d known and seen Goku fight with the Mr. Piccolo her son was always so very fondly of. Then Namek. Again, Piccolo had done all he could to protect her son _and_ had rescued a downed Goku from drowning. Piccolo had decided to come back to Earth, too. He had chosen the harder thing, to stay with Gohan and help the boy after Frieza and Namek. 

During those cold mornings before the Namekian Dragon Balls could be used again, Chi Chi would wake up, shrug on a coat and boots, and prepare to chop wood for a fire… only to find a large bundle neatly stacked just outside the door. Every morning. And when the weather warmed, Piccolo usually decided to meditate somewhere within hearing distance of where Gohan and she were, in case the boy needed him, of course. When Future Trunks had appeared, and Goku had finally decided to deign his family with his presence again, Piccolo had _still_ stuck around, for training this time, and to add a lot more chaos to her life. 

Then that day… The Cell Games… and Gohan… when Goku… When everything in her world seemed to shatter, Piccolo was still there. He had done the one thing Goku never could. He had stayed. Had helped Gohan with schoolwork, had helped with newborn Goten, had helped Chi Chi. The world had begun to repair itself. After a while, Chi Chi had realized the world wasn’t quite so broken anymore. She was now only half broke and, though those old breaks could never seal themselves back together, perhaps new pieces could be added to make her completely whole in a brand new way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I adore Piccolo and have slowly come to fall for Chi Chi x Piccolo aka Chiccolo. If you would, I'd love you to leave a comment on the work - even if it's grammar, spelling, how you hate this pairing, it's all terrible, anything at all.
> 
> The title for this piece is based on “Half Broke Heart” by Cam. 
> 
> I wish I owned Dragon Ball. I tragically do not.


End file.
